Mellodramatic
by Jayne Foyer
Summary: Short snippets from the misadventurous life of our favorite leather-studded drama king. Rated M for language.


Mello was pacing. Again.

Matt was lying on his own bed, head propped up on one of the many pillows, a sucker in his mouth. He had turned down the volume on his game to please his roommate, but he stared intently at the screen nonetheless, his fingers moving with a sort of speedy grace. The game was supposed to be some sort of difficult puzzle designed to test his learning capacity, but for him it was simpler than pie. He whizzed through level by level, exerting as little energy as he could.

Mello was burning with energy, walking back and forth maybe three or four steps – all he could manage in their small room. A steady stream of swear words was coming from his lips, a twisted snarl frozen on his face. He glanced at Matt, then, angrily, he stopped pacing, setting his feet firmly, clenching his jaw.

"Dammit, Matt," he said impatiently. "Are you even listening to me?"

"No," replied Matt, still staring at the game. "I have decided your dirty mouth is harmful to my poor virgin ears. Ergo, I'm going to block out your voice for the next hour or so. At least until I beat this dumb game."

"You stupid bastard," cursed Mello, his lip curling in disgust. "Well fuck you very much, I don't need any validation from you to know that I'm right. Asshole."

"You know what's funny?" commented Matt airily, never looking up from his game. "I'm supposed to call you Mello, when the one thing you _never_ are is mellow." Matt snorted. "I guess they do have a sense of humour around here."

"Oh, ha-ha," mocked Mello sarcastically. "Shut the fuck up."

"I wonder if that's ironic," murmured Matt, ignoring his friend. "I can never remember the correct definition of 'ironic.'"

"You have one of the highest IQs ever recorded," said Mello lowly, dangerously, "and you can't even remember what 'ironic' means?" Matt ignored him. "Listen to me!" Nothing. No reaction. "Fuck!" said Mello loudly. "What do I have to do to get your attention, pull an A and blow my brains out? Listen to me!"

"Christ, Mell," said Matt, finally glancing up. "You're such a drama queen."

"And you're such a little bitch," Mello shot back, but Matt knew he was hurt. "Take that back, _Matty_."

Anyone else would hate the nickname, but Matt didn't really mind it. In fact, he thought it had a nice kind of ring to it. "Okay, sorry," he said. "I probably should have said drama _king_. We both know that your masculinity is already threatened enough by my very presence."

"Fuck!" shouted Mello, and with a frustrated sigh, Mello fled the room, slamming the door behind him.

Only then did Matt allow a small smile to crack his lips.

* * *

They were in London.

They had taken the bare minimum with them. Documents, a few personal possessions (Matt's games, for example), and money. Lots of money, all provided, of course, by Wammy's House.

They were done with their shopping and, despite their best attempts, they looked nothing like your average fifteen-year-olds.

As they walked across a bridge, ignoring the men playing instruments along the rails, Matt commented nonchalantly, "Nice pants. They match your necklace."

"It's a fucking rosary, Matty."

"Whoa there, watch your mouth. I'm pretty sure you can get excommunicated for using the words 'fucking' and 'rosary' in the same sentence."

"Shut up," muttered Mello miserably. "I'm not in the mood right now."

"Aw, that's too bad. I hadn't even gotten around to complimenting your _fabulous_ leather gloves."

"Oh yeah? Well shut the fuck up before you get one of these leather-studded fists in your face."

"Leather-studded, _wow_. I'm never going to use any other adjective to describe you ever again."

"Matt," said Mello. "Can we focus, please?"

"On what?" laughed Matt. "You don't really think we can do it, do you, Mello?"

"Of course I fucking do. Why wouldn't we?"

"We're _kids_, Mell. You're fifteen. You couldn't replace L if you tried."

"I don't need to replace L," Mello replied coolly. "Fortunately, he's already dead. I just have to succeed him."

"You are so full of bull-"

"In any case," interrupted Mello. "I bet that creep Near is already gone and working on building his contacts. And you know what? It will be a cold day in hell before I let that little assface beat me."

Matt glanced at him. Mello had stopped eating his chocolate – a sure sign of distress. He almost sighed. "What do you even have against that kid, anyway?" Matt asked. "I mean, sure, he's a little pretentious, but...I'm pretty sure your middle name is Pretentious, Mell."

"My middle name is none of your concern," said Mello coldly. "And, for the record, I hate that kid for a good damn reason, Matt. Don't doubt me."

"A good damn reason, really," said Matt disbelievingly. "Enlighten me."

Mello stopped walking. He clenched his fists, trembling slightly.

"That bastard," hissed Mello. "That evil baby-faced bastard, waltzing right into my plans, trying to take away every fucking thing I've worked for since L chose me. He's the very bane of my existence, Matty." Mello turned and looked at Matt, a crazed look in his eye. "I don't think you understand how deep my hatred for him really runs. It's like...his very being rubs me the wrong way. Everything I despise about the world, I see in him. The very same way that A couldn't live in the same world as L, neither Near nor I will ever be at peace until one of us is dead." His face twisted into an ugly smile. "But the thing is, I know I'm better than him. And I can't wait until I can prove it to him, and look him in the eye while he realizes the truth. I can't wait to see him break."

Silence. Then Matt said cautiously, "So basically, your plan is to get Near to kill himself."

"Of course not," scoffed Mello. "Don't be a such a fucktard, Matty, of course not. Not in a literal sense, anyway." That smile returned. "Still. I'll enjoy watching every minute of it."

There was a short silence.

Then Matt laughed.

"Always so melodramatic, Mell," he sighed. Then he grinned. "But I guess I shouldn't be too surprised. Damn, they were smart when they named you, weren't they?"

"Shut up, dickface," muttered Mello. "Come on, let's get going."

"I want to buy a new game before we go."

"No," said Mello. "No new games. We have to leave now."

Matt stopped walking and stood still, without saying a word.

"_Fucking_ – fine! You can buy a new game. But you're just going to beat it in like two hours, and when you do, don't come whining for another one. Now go on. Buy your fucking game, so we can get the hell out of here. O_kay_?"

Simmering, Mello sped up, striding across the wet pavement. Matt stuck his hands in his pockets, following his friend, and he couldn't keep a smile off his face.

* * *

Just random moments shared between two besties, Mello and Matt. M&M. I'll probably be writing more, because I enjoy their relationship so much.


End file.
